


Between the Lines

by cephalopod_groupie



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, Bickering, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-02-26 03:27:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2636324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cephalopod_groupie/pseuds/cephalopod_groupie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-film angst. Started off as a one-shot but became something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bickering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A good old fashioned pre-film bickering match with a bit of love hidden between the insults.

As usual, they both regretted getting into an argument about whose work is the more important. It was a losing battle. Math vs. Biology. Might as well be Kaiju vs. Jaeger. There was no right or wrong and they both secretly knew it; it was just their way of fighting for respect, regardless of how fruitless it was.

"They're not mutually exclusive, Hermann." He wanted to add 'like us' but thought it would be a little too sentimental for his lab mate. Not all their limits could be defined by duct tape on the floor and Hermann's emotions were probably strangled by the silvery-grey stuff already. "And neither is more important." He almost believed that but instantly regretted giving in an inch to Hermann.

"Without mathematics, biology wouldn't exist."

"And without biology, math would be even more boring. Still don't know how you can do math, pure math. How do you even have a brain left?"

"Math defines all. My work is not defined by the Kaiju, as it is for you." Hermann pressed too hard on the blackboard and his chalk snapped. He huffed and picked up a new piece, hoping Newton didn't notice.

"Dude, if it weren't for the Kaiju, neither of us would even have jobs. Or if we did, you'd be the math professor at the University of Timbuktu that everybody hated!"

"I wouldn't mind that, it was established in the 12th century."

"When you were born?" Newton mouthed to himself. Hermann's feigned calmness was not fooling Newton, and he watched the chalk dust pile up furiously beneath Hermann's quickening fingers at the bottom of the board.

"Pretentious bastard." He shouldn't have said it but the opportunity to further enflame buttoned up pseudo-placid Hermann was too delicious to pass up. He almost felt bad that he may have hurt the man's feelings until he heard the comeback.

"And you'd be a high school biology teacher that everyone ridiculed behind his back."

"Ok, that's it." Newt picked up a sloppy wad of Kaiju entrails and hurled them across the room and they landed smack dab on the back of Hermann's fricking pencil neck; what an excellent shot! Hermann stopped writing immediately and stood completely frozen. Newt stopped breathing. Herman dropped the chalk, slapped a hand on the back of his neck, wiped off the slimy residue and whipped it on the floor with greater force than Newton expected him capable, creating an audible splat.

"Clean this filthy mess up!" he growled, looking at the floor, and stalked off toward his quarters as vigorously as possible. Newton stood in the refreshing but sad silence for a minute. He hated it when they hurt eachother. Friendly squabbling sure, but actual deliberate insults were the absolute worst with them. They really knew how to stick the knife into eachother all too well. He got the cleaning kit out (that he usually didn't bother with) and went to work.

"You'll be able to see your stupid face in it, you..." Newton muttered with childish spite. He got up and stood, looking up at the chalkboard. Hermann's work, Hermann's mind, was right there in front of him. He shouldn't have made fun of him like that. He sighed. After a few seconds of reluctant repentance he headed down to Hermann's quarters. The door was ajar. Hermann's jacket was off. He was at the sink, face and neck wet. Newt's eyes widened. "I've never seen him with his jacket off before," he thought. He cleared his throat. Hermann pretended not to notice, but dropping the washcloth ruined the facade. If Newton wasn't so nervous about what to say he'd have smiled.

"I...shouldn't have done that."

"Thank you for your contrition." Hermann turned away, wiping his neck with a towel. If it had been a better situation, Newt would have practically forced his way in like a freshman at college wanting to see the upperclassman's room. But he stood there. Only Hermann's back visible. White shirt clinging to his thin frame.

"I was ridiculed in high school, behind my back. I mean, you know that already, but..."

"I shouldn't have said it."

"I was just trying to get your goat. I do that. And I totally understand the math thing, I really do. The whole concept, like 'math is a computer program that runs the computer of life' or some other poetic crap that you'd probably say, I get that, but what I do is important too. And it's pretty much all I've got." ("Don't say 'and you', don't say 'and you'".)

"I know I'm boring. I admit it." Hermann was about to say he knows people hate him but that would be guilting Newton into saying he didn't hate him and it wouldn't be a true test. It wouldn't be a constant, if there was one in their...whatever it was they had.

"You're not boring. Seriously, dude, I mean it. You're the most entertaining person to argue with." Hermann turned his head to the side a little and Newt saw a tiny soft smile. Hermann reached for his jacket and put it on. The silence was a little less painful.

"The floor's clean." Hermann turned around and took his cane. Suddenly it was alright for them to walk down the hall together. Hermann closed his door behind him before Newton had a chance to peer in. Newt launched into an elaborate Kaiju theory (desperately pretending nothing had happened) and Hermann rolled his eyes.

"So what I'm saying, is, that..." Secretly, Hermann decided to predict Newton's ravings like Kaiju attacks. Yes, math could define everything. Or so he liked to tell himself.


	2. Speaker Wars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys use music as a weapon.

After the Kaiju-intestine-slinging incident, things returned to normal, but Newton and Hermann had reached a plateau that was slightly less juvenile than their usual petty arguments. Whenever they talked about anything after that, all the contents of their letters seemed to spill out onto the floor between them like invisible sick. Their most recent insults had had such a ring of intimacy to them. They both knew they had gone too far. Consequently they were overly polite to one another for quite a few days after that. Once, Newt caught Hermann looking at him over his shoulder, chalk poised on the board, and when they accidently locked eyes for a nano-second, Hermann immediately started scrawling and Newton started to whistle in a very uncharacteristic fashion. "Shit, shit, shit," Newt chanted in his mind.

About a week later, during a crazy-long shift preceding a string of Kaiju attacks (at that point the worst on record), Newton slam-dunked his third energy drink of the last 24 hours into the large garbage bin across the room. Hermann stood at his desk and tisked.

"Those things will damage your heart," he said, keeping focussed on his composition notebook and selection of yellow #2 pencils.

"Didn't think you cared."

"I don't," Hermann said too fast to be true.

"And all your cups of tea are soooo good for your health, man," Newton said sarcastically.

"My tea only contains caffeine, not high levels of sugar or other stimulant drugs as those little cans from hell do."

"They're not that bad."

"I seem to remember you telling me your heart skipped a beat once."

"Ok, ok. It was just that one time."

"If my calculations are correct, there will be many other 'one times'."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure." Newton made his usual 'blah blah' motion with his gloved hands.

"And your heart hasn't given you any trouble since that incident I mentioned?"

"No, no." Newton was telling the truth, but only in the physical sense. His heart was bothering him. He just didn't admit in words. He didn't say inside his mind "I really love that jerk," not even in jest. It was just a little jolt in his heart when he saw Hermann in the morning, when the man said something to him that fell into the category of nice, and especially when they made eye contact for any reason whatsoever. But all this was buried under miles and miles of denial and Kaiju enthusiasm.

"Music?" Newton said hopefully. Hermann groaned.

"As long as it's not that heavy metal stuff you blare at me. It gives me a headache."

"Sure," Newt said, walking to the corner of the lab and powering up his high tech mp3. "Let's go with a classic." AC/DC's Back in Black exploded from the speakers. Newt started air guitar while still holding a scalpel.

"Oh God," Hermann said, making his lips as thin as a sun-dried rubber band and shutting his eyes. When the vocals really heated up he walked drearily over to his own music player and switched it on. Newton was hit with a wall of Dvořák's 9th Symphony. He over-reacted by shaking his head like he'd been hit by a cartoon mallet and looked over at Hermann who was glaring back. The twinge in his heart was totally absorbed by the deafening cocktail of Allegro Con Fuoco and Australian hard rock. The sound of the two pieces fighting one another at every quarter note made Hermann's stomach lurch and he tried to concentrate on the classical meter as hard as possible.

"Dude! DUDE!" Newton yelled. Hermann waved him off and cranked up the volume. "DUUUUDDDE! THIS WOULD MAKE AN AWESOME MASHUP!" Newt rolled his eyes. He flipped off his music just as the song was ending. Hermann looked up with a start and turned the volume down to a whisper. Newton walked over to the blackboards.

"I was screaming at you, man. I said AC/DC and Dvořák would make an epic mash-up."

"No thank you. My ears were on the verge of bleeding as it is."

"Dvořák, right?" Newt said. Hermann nodded. "Funny, I took you for a Wagner kinda guy."

"No, I prefer Bruckner...Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninov..."

"The tempestuous ones, huh?" Neither of them fought a small smile.

"Surprised you know who they a – oh, your parents, yes." Hermann tried not to jam the whole of his proverbial foot in his mouth. There was another personal land mine they had to step over. Not that they hadn't discussed it in full detail in their letters but face to face the false anonymity dropped completely. Suddenly they couldn't discuss all the things they did before. They just knew. When things like this did come up they simply stopped in their tracks and nodded and changed the subject. Hermann leaned to the side and switched off the New World Symphony. They looked in eachother's eyes for a second and Newton went back to his work.

"Damn. I gotta cut down on those energy drinks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, I highly recommend playing AC/DC's Back in Black and Allegro Con Fuoco of Dvořák's 9th Symphony at once!


	3. Gibe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt thinks he's part of the fashion police. 
> 
> *turns up 2 years late with Starbucks* LITERALLY...omg I started this fic in 2014....

One thing that Newton really had trouble doing was stopping himself from saying off-hand remarks. He didn’t know if it was a subconscious attempt to grab Hermann’s attention or that he just secretly liked being snotty some days.

“Nice cardigan, grandpa.” Two seconds after he said it Newt winced internally as he anticipated the reaction.

“I beg your pardon?” Hermann said in that dangerous tone of his, pausing mid-walk to give Newt a mild glare.

“I said ‘nice cardigan.’”  
 “You referred to me as ‘grandpa.’”

“So? Who under the age of 82 wears crap like that?”

“Me. And for your information it’s an old Ralph Lauren I found in a charity shop. It’s very warm and this laboratory is bloody freezing.”

“It’s a couple sizes too big.”

“Just because I don’t like skin tight clothing as you do doesn’t mean it’s too large. I do actually like to move about when I wear clothing and I don’t particularly care for all the contours of my body being on display for everyone to ogle at.”

Newt almost said “shame” in his usual wisecrack tone but then realized it wasn’t actually an insult. He’d love to see Hermann in some body-hugging clothes but that grey and navy blue cardigan made the mathematician look awfully snuggleable. He made a hmpf noise and turned away.

Hermann shook his head in disbelief and walked to his chalkboards. He was about to write something but then his mind went blank. The lab was silent aside from the occasional sound from Newton. Hermann hung his head slightly.

“Why do you say these things to me?” He spoke softly, almost to himself, but loud enough for Newt to hear.

“I don’t know. I’m very sorry, ok,” Newt said, too embarrassed to sound sincere.

“Alright.” Sometimes Hermann could cry. He was ashamed of himself for letting Newt’s comments get to him. But then, as Spock once said, _“Insults are effective only where emotion is present.”*_ He could kick himself for feeling even the faintest twinge of hurt when Newt lashed out in his small way. Just when he thought he had chosen a more stylish garment, Newton criticized that too. But Hermann stubbornly wore his new consignment cardigan because there was no way to change Newt’s mind and he enjoyed the garment anyway. They barely spoke for three days.

*ping*

> Today, 10:32AM  
>  From: Dr. Newton Geiszler
> 
> hey Hermann,
> 
> sorry to dis your baggy cardigan chic...the color looks good on you
> 
> sorry
> 
> Newt

Hermann sat at his computer for a moment and then went back to his work. Standing at his metal bookshelf near his chalkboards, pretending to read the spines, he slyly looked over at Newt. His lab partner was glancing over. Hermann tried very hard to restrain a little smile. Newt smiled back and looked down at his samples again. The mathematician watched him, his eyes still alive with a smile but his thin face blank, sad, confused. “Perhaps we just need to work at it,” Hermann thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Spock, Leonard Nimoy, Star Trek TOS S02E02 Who Mourns for Adonis?


	4. Taking the Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt's poor lab safety strikes again.

“Son of a BI-!!!!!!” Newt shouted for the fifth time that week...no, fifth time that day. Hermann inhaled through his nose, trying desperately to relax and think. He had been over the same equation as many times as Newton had exclaimed. Like a video game that keeps getting interrupted, Hermann had to start all over again because his brain crashed like an over played hand-held Tetris. Hermann decided to go over and give Newt a piece of his mind. As he clambered down the ladder he thought he heard a small crash but was concentrating so hard on controlling his fury that he didn’t take into account what it was. 

“Dr. Geiszler, I can no longer stay silent, this has got to stOOOOOOP” 

In the interim, Newton had cut his finger and accidentally elbowed a large Pyrex glass beaker full of toxic kaiju bodily fluids to the floor...which created a very large puddle....which Hermann stepped in, sending him flying backward onto the cement. 

“Hermann!!” Newt practically screamed, still holding his bleeding finger. Hermann winced, not making a sound, trying not to cry. Newt rushed over. 

“Don’t touch me!” Hermann snapped as he pulled his hand away, fiercely. Newt shrunk back like a child. “Just call the bloody medics..for both of us.”

Newt did as he was told, biting his lip between sentences. “Do you think anything is broken?” He spoke softly, almost so that Hermann couldn’t hear him.

“What? No, I don’t think anything is broken, but I’m going to be very sore for weeks.”

When he hung up the phone, Newt said he was sorry. 

“Just don’t try to move me, you’ve done enough damage.”

The medics arrived and sat Newt down. He watched them hoist Hermann up as one of them bandaged his finger. The man winced badly. 

“I think I’ve pulled a muscle when I landed. I was a little tense when I fell.” They sat Hermann down nearby. 

“Does it hurt? You’re crying.”

“No, it doesn’t hurt,” Newton said. He and Hermann locked eyes for a nanosecond. Newt sucked back his tears until he got back to his room. He just sat on his bed, hot tears streaming down his face. He felt numb and decided he better sleep, but the minutes ticked by. There were three loud knocks at his door. 

“Huh what?” Newt said, messily wiping his tears off his face.

“Newton can I speak with you?”

“It’s ‘Newton’ now, huh?” Newton said under his breath angrily, then started to cry again. “Yeah come in!” He sniffed and tried to sober himself up. 

Hermann opened the door and inched in, a wheelchair visible behind him in the doorway. Newt was almost frustrated at seeing it.  


“Look dude,” Newton said, turning away, his hands between his knees. “I’m really really sorry ok.” 

“I didn’t mean to pull away like that, I was just...”

“In pain, I know, I caused it. I feel really bad.”

“I know you do.”

Newt nodded, swallowing back more tears.

“Is your finger alright?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Pentecost said he wants you to talk to him in his office about safety regulations after you’ve rested.”

“Great,” Newt deadpanned. 

Hermann inhaled and exhaled. 

“Are you ok? Did you break any bones or anything?”

“No, I’ve just got to be careful about how I move for a while. I’ve pulled a muscle or two but not much I can do for that.”

“Have they cleaned up the mess?”

“Yes."

“Are you contaminated by me–I mean by the kaiju spleen drain?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Newton.”

“What?”

“I know it was an accident.”

“Yeah, and I could be more careful, I know. You don’t have to give me a lecture, Stacker is gonna do that.”

“I wasn’t going to. I just wanted to say that I didn’t mean to lose my temper.”

“Dude, you could have been seriously hurt and it’s all my fault.”

“Things happen. Just get some rest. I must be getting some sleep too.”

Newt didn’t reply and Hermann was about to turn and walk out but then he stopped. He shuffled forward and put a hand on Newton’s shoulder. It was all Newt could do not to openly weep like a tired child who lost his mother in the middle of a department store. Hermann’s long-fingered, boney, strong hand was gripping his shoulder warmly. 

“Thanks, Hermann.”

The latter made a noise of acknowledgement and walked out before sitting down in the wheelchair and closing the door. Newt lied on the bed, crying heavily into his pillow before passing out. 


	5. Dare to Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tendo says something that activates Newt's over-thinking process.

“Hey Tendo guess what? Hermann and I agree on something!” 

“Congratulations when’s the wedding?”

“What?” Newton said, almost laughing, trying not to be awkward even though his heart started pounding at the suggestion of him and Hermann being A Thing. 

“Just kidding bro,” Tendo said, gently fist bumping the biologist’s shoulder. 

He and Tendo spoke of other things but Newt’s mind was elsewhere during the entire conversation and by the time he got back to the lab he couldn’t remember anything Tendo said other than mentioning a wedding. Was he really kidding? Oh great, this was going to haunt him for a few days wasn’t it? And it did. 

For days. 

Cause they were practically married right? Bickered like all the time, cared about eachother not-so-secretly, worked in the same general vicinity like day and night, and hell their rooms were pretty darn close. They were like a married couple from a 1950s sitcom where they, totally unbelievably, slept in separate beds. Accept they were in a giant lab, trying to understand a race of monsters that emerged from the sea to kill all the humans thereon.

Is that what Tendo meant? Or was he hinting that they were like, ya know...had unresolved sexual tension. But Tendo always said stuff like that and it was cool...NBD. 

“But then why did my heart start pounding when he said it?” Newt closed his eyes and put his fist to his forehead. 

Later that night, Newt and Hermann were just getting over another little spat, this time about Newton asking to use his kettle. 

“I gave it to you to borrow, not to keep,” Hermann had said, with one eyebrow cocked. 

After that they slotted into their usual post-argument-state; non-verbal communication and cooperation that was almost tender. Hermann and Newt were working on a huge stack of data collection and combining their research with other people’s findings. They passed each other papers and pencils. Sometimes their hands would brush and Newt would get a little thrill. He hadn’t felt Hermann’s touch since he’d been upset about being responsible for wiping Hermann out with the kaiju goo on the floor. Newt wished he could have an excuse to hold Hermann’s hand or have the stuffy dork grip his shoulder again. He wanted these casual touches so bad. 

Then there came a deadly second where he had this thought. A second which Newt wished he could erase because he knew that there was no turning back. He was screwed. 

“I wish we were married,” Newt thought to himself. It was so clear that for a heart-stopping second Newt thought he said it out loud but Hermann was engrossed in some report so thankfully the idea remained in Newton’s head. 

Tendo was totally kidding. Newt wasn’t.


	6. Crossing the Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Division is meaningless. Newton and Hermann almost admit it.

The “your side/my side” argument was as illogical as it was futile. But eventually they got to the point where they made a boundary on the floor. It was so childish and they knew it. But they both had too much pride to stop. It was basically all their lab, and maybe just their desks were kinda their own territory and also Hermann’s chalk boards and his dissection table, that’s what Newt thought. But they divided it anyway. 

“You always fling bits of kaiju on _my_ side!” Hermann had burst out.

“Gotta get back at you for the chalk dust fumes, dude!” Newt replied in a half-hearted attempt to wound him. 

Down went the tape. That physical line to represent their emotional line. It cut through them like a knife and they might never admit it. They yelled at each other if they crossed the line. That happened a lot. But eventually they let the line-crossing happen. Sometimes giving each other a look, sometimes just ignoring it, and gradually just not even noticing. It must have been about a year later that Newt was leaning on one of Hermann’s desks, chatting, that they realized it happened. 

“Hey, Herms, look at where I’m standing,” Newt chuckled. 

“By my desk? Or is it a trick question?”

“Yeah, by your desk. On _your_ side of the lab!”

“Oh,” Hermann said softly. “Well, it was bound to happen eventually.”

“Was it?” They locked eyes and couldn’t look away. The both admitted in that look that the line had meant nothing, the divide was like a flash of anger between two people and it might always exist but it could be ignored. 

“Seems kinda silly, ya know,” Newt started. “Fighting each other when we’re fighting something so much bigger.” 

“Indeed.” Hermann wanted to say more. All he seemed to manage were stuffy, unemotional answers that he knew Newton hated and that he himself hated even more. They were still looking at each other. 

“You wouldn’t wanna be on my side of the lab anyway. All those take-out boxes.” Hermann was glad Newt decided to be humorous. It saved him from something he didn’t have a word for. 

“You mean ‘take-away’?” Hermann teased. It was unlike him and Newt couldn’t help but blush a little. 

“I’m just glad we don’t have a dishwasher,” Newt went on. 

“Quite,” Hermann said, still looking at Newt. His eyes darted away once or twice but he couldn’t keep his eyes off the scruffy biologist, the man who could get his blood boiling faster than anyone or anything. “I’d tell you to stack from the back and rinse off the plates before you put them in.”

“Well, I don’t know, I usually stack from the back.” 

They both chucked softly, awkwardly. So awkwardly that it was nice. They were at a kind of impasse they had never reached before. It was so silent in the lab. And then a familiar sound approached: Stacker’s unmistakable walk. Suddenly he arrived and Hermann turned around, as if he was naked and he was too shy to be seen. Newton stood unmoved. He kept staring at Hermann and didn’t even flinch as the imposing Marshal stood next to him. 

“Did I interrupt another argument?”

“Not at all, sir.” Hermann said as he turned around. Stiff, formal, cold. He had been very warm 3.8 seconds ago.


	7. He Loves Him Some Cathode Ray Tube

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermann has his reasons, Newt has his.

After it had been acknowledged between them that their barrier in the lab was only activated during heated arguments and was otherwise meaningless, Newt would often casually walk over to Hermann’s side, randomly starting up odd conversations. Hermann pretended to be annoyed by this, but in actual fact, few things lowered his anxiety more, despite the number of times these little convos lead to a bickering match. Today, Newt was making fun of Hermann’s antiquated CRT computer monitors.

“Oh my God, you are _such_ a nerd.”

“As you continually remind me. What for now, exactly?”

“Your old CRT computers. I mean, they’re cool but shouldn’t you recycle them?”

“They still serve their purpose,” Hermann said calmly as he shuffled through papers at his desk.

“How? And also, you had someone actually haul these heavy-ass computers into the lab?”

“I still store information on them, and yes I did have them brought into the lab, as I need them.”

“So like, are they connected to the internet with dial up?”

“They used to be.”

“So, just for storage huh?”

“Yes,” Hermann replied curtly.

“What do you keep on here anyway? Old paint files?” Newton chuckled and Hermann threw down a pencil. “Sorry,” Newt muttered. “Didn’t know I’d strike a nerve.”

“If you must know, I store original copies of some of my equations are on them.”

“Oh.”

“And if you’re going to scoff at my interests then you can jolly well leave...and go back to your slimy dead samples.”

“Dude,” Newt said, walking over. “I was just teasing.”

“Sometimes I don’t like to be teased.”

“Sorry.” Newt shuffled his feet and licked his lips. He looked at Hermann. The mathematician stubbornly refused to look up. “And um,” Newt swallowed. “It’s kinda sweet that you’re sentimental about your computers and your equations.”

“I am not sentimental. If you’ll recall I said they have a purpose.”

“Yeah I know, but...still.”

Hermann made a humf noise. Newt decided to go back to “his side”, but as he was walking away he paused for literally 1.75 seconds to squeeze Hermann’s shoulder. Newt couldn’t help but take every opportunity to touch him, to feel that he was real. And to somehow let Hermann know that he cared. And maybe they could repair whatever was broken between them. Newt didn’t see Hermann shut his eyes tightly, as though he was fighting against something. He wanted to reach out to Newton but he was paralyzed. 


	8. Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newton and Hermann find each other.

It’s amazing how petty arguments disappear like a single drop of milk in a giant mug of tea. And after a war is over it takes a long time, perhaps forever, to return to the pettiness that once divided you from someone you love. After the clock was set back to zero Newton and Hermann returned home, to the lab. That was the only home they knew now. Hermann walked in first. He picked up Newt’s recorder and listened to what could have been the man’s final moments. 

"Bloody fool!" Hermann said angrily after throwing down Newt's recorder onto his desk. 

"I know,” Hermann could hear Newt say behind him. 

"Oh." Hermann cleared his throat and looked for the recorder on the desk.

"It worked though,"Newt said sheepishly. They exchanged glances. 

"Might not have." Hermann handed Newt the recorder and turned to his blackboards. All his equations no longer needed. 

“I was selfish, I'm sorry. But I didn't think you gave a shit.”

“A fine excuse.”

“I was just thinking about science. Proving my theory.”

“Risking your life for science.”

“Sometimes people have to risk their life for science.”

“Even so, it was very foolish. And to leave me that message was very unkind.”

“Like I said, I didn't think you'd notice I was gone.”

“Well I did and I do.”

“I know.” Newt hung his head, not able to look Hermann in the face. “I didn’t think I’d die.”

“You liar, you knew there was at least a 50 percent chance you’d die. You were sacrificing yourself for science.”

“God, Hermann, I am really really sorry.” Hermann was silent for as long as he could stand to be. He could feel both their hearts beating, he was sure of it. 

“I know you are,” Hermann said tenderly. “I can feel it,” he added like a silent prayer. For a moment he fooled himself that Newt hadn’t heard it, but then it dawned on him that Newton could hear it, as if he was plugging his ears and hearing his organs move about, feeling and hearing internally. And Newton moved. Newt moved swiftly, gently until he was in front of his companion, (because that it what Hermann was to him for better or worse), and reached upward, feeling rather than seeing himself rest a hand on Hermann’s neck and squeezing tenderly. Both their eyes were closed and their foreheads almost touched and their energy hummed between them like static. But then without warning Newt pulled away.

"Sonofabitch I can't do it. I just can't do it." Hermann snapped out of his trance, looking down at the shorter man with great intensity. 

"Can't do what? Can't do this?" Newt's eyes snapped up just in time to see Hermann's face in the nanosecond before his lips were caught between his. Hermann already knew where he wanted to go with this but feeling Newton’s brain from the inside gave him an edge on the man’s desires. Hermann ferociously kissed Newt and Newt succulently kissed Hermann until they were gasping for air.They fisted each other’s clothing as they stood, suspended.

"That's not fair, you should _not_ be able to kiss like that. Shit, you've been chained to a giant chalkboard for years!” Hermann’s lust turned back into a soft rage.

“I wasn't just thinking about numbers over there all these years," Hermann said, pointing. He was wounded, angry, sad. "You think I'm not a man? You think I'm just a giant calculator? I know I act like one but…" Newton stared, looking like he was going to cry.

"No! I honestly don't think that of you! I know there's more under there. The only reason you and I bicker at all is because…we like the challenge, right? The challenge that only we can offer each other.” 

“Not only that. We...we can’t tell the truth, we couldn’t have. But now we know.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you...how I felt. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright Newton, it’s alright. I’m sorry too,” Hermann said, shaking his head before resting it on Newt’s. 

"Every time I looked at your big brown eyes and your thin wide lips I just couldn’t say it, I couldn’t say I wanted you." Tears welled up in Hermann’s eyes as he looked at Newt. 

“I couldn’t say it either. I didn’t want to admit that I wanted you too. When I thought you might feel the same I convinced myself that you hated me.”

“Dude. Oh my God, I don’t hate you. I never have. I love you.”

“God, I love you, my darling Newton.” The scruffy little biologist hugged the skinny mathematician close and arched up to kiss him. They could taste tears between their passionate kissing and it was wonderful to finally feel each other. Hermann rubbed and caressed Newton’s strong back with his long fingers, gasping at the touch. It was almost too much. And Newt gripped and squeezed Hermann’s wiry frame, not wanting to let go. But then they paused, their open mouths resting on each other’s in gentle ecstasy, tears on their cheeks, they whispered their names.

_“Newton.”_

_“Hermann.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going through a very stressful time in my life right now, so if there are typos I'm sorry.


	9. Doing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gratuitous smut chapter with meaningful tenderness interlaced into it because I'm like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *SMUT ALERT* 
> 
> Also, I wrote a lot of this chapter 2 years ago. Beware typos and awkward style changes. I tried.

Tendo eventually dug them out and dragged Newt and Hermann back into the cheering fray. All secret alcohol stashes were revealed and the greatest improv party was thrown. There was so much discussion of what everyone was going to do now that the war was over that the two men began to get very depressed about their situation. They held hands as they walked back to the lab., the party still going strong. The lab was blessedly silent. Newton paced a little; Hermann stood still. 

"Now what do we do? There's nothing to research anymore," Hermann said, looking upward. 

"No one to report to, either, now with Stacker gone. Although, there's Hansen."

"Yes." Hermann’s voice was softly melancholic. 

"Gonna miss this place too." Hermann turned round halfway.

"I thought you hated working here?"

"What, because of us bitching at each other all the time?" Newt didn't try very hard to fight a smile. The corners of Hermann's mouth went up a little too.

"Doesn't mean to say we couldn't continue our research here. I mean, the facility is set up for us, as we need it."

"Right! Just because the threat is over doesn't mean there isn't some stuff to be done." The wheels were turning. 

"I'm sure we have whole volumes to write on what we've discovered," Hermann suggested.

"Right."

"We should speak to Hansen about it," Hermann said, as if writing out a to-do list. 

"Sure." Newt nodded somewhat forcefully. 

“What’s wrong Newton?”

“Nothing!”

“Oh?”

"Well...You've got your equations. What have I got? Nothing. I might as well study dodo birds. Numbers are eternal, kaiju aren’t.”

“Yes, I do see what you mean, but honestly, there is great value in what you know. You could teach it, write about it. I’m sure you could inspire some youngsters about kaiju biology, especially as they were created to destroy and aren’t inherently bad within themselves.” (Newt’s jaw dropped open. Hermann didn’t notice.) “People might find some sympathy with them despite...well, you know. And in any case, the world will need your knowledge to prepare for another attack, should the worst happen...”

Newton suddenly just got to his knees.

“What in God’s name are you doing?!”

“Take a wild guess,” Newton replied, whipping off his black leather jacket. 

“Not here, are you mad?! Someone might see!” Hermann protested as his trousers were being unzipped. 

“We’re right out in the open...Ah!” Newton started massaging the soft bulge of Hermann’s navy colored Y-fronts. Hermann steadied himself on one of Newt’s shoulders.

“Everyone’s off duty until further notice,” Newt said, intent on his...task.

“Still, you never kno–.” Hermann ceased to speak and simply mewled out of sheer pleasure. Newton had pulled out Hermann’s rapidly hardening cock and taken it in his mouth, gripping the man’s hips. 

_“Well, there’s a few years of tension out the window,”_ Newton thought. 

“This ok? Is it ok that I keep on doing this?”

“Oh yes.” 

Hermann noted his friend of longstanding was remarkably skilled, as he seemed to be in everything but keeping his mouth shut. Which, in this case, was a good thing indeed. Hermann felt every contour of his member with every movement of the other man’s lips, tongue, and throat. Newt worked his mouth up and down Hermann’s significant hard-on and every stroke was punctuated by a “Newton” or “oh” or “dear God.” Hermann blindly, desperately reached out for Newton and grasped the back of his head, fingers laced in his unbrushed hair, holding him in place. Newton’s muffled moan hit his ears and Hermann’s breathing became very ragged. Newton sucked harder and harder. He was almost there, any second now. 

“Oh, oh, Newton, I’m...I’m...” After a series of short huffs, he came, nearly falling forward onto Newton. Hermann felt blessed release, with a moan verging on a whimper. Newton held him steady and said “It’s ok, man, it’s ok, just lean on me.” Newt’s words were so muffled it was as if they were underwater. Hermann was too stunned to even be aware that Newton cleaned him off and neatly tucked him away; all he could do was breathe very deeply. His lungs were pumping so forcibly it was making him feel sick. 

“I think I need to sit down.”

“Yeah, you don’t look so good," he said as he whipped over the chair and ushered him into it. "Here." Hermann was perspiring so he wiped his head, his eyes closed. Newton knelt on the lab floor and started to stroke Hermann's thighs gently, trying to calm him down. Then he reached up to Hermann and put his hand on the man’s face. Hermann, whose breathing had returned to normal, opened his eyes to see Newton give him the most tender look he’d ever seen. He took Newton’s hand and kissed it.

“What made you do that?” Hermann asked. Newt sighed, smiling a little. 

“Because you basically said, like, a full paragraph of encouragement. You’ve never done that before.”

“Yes, well, I do admire you.” 

“How kind,” Newton said, gently mocking him. Hermann chuckled. They embraced warmly and Newt rubbed his neck against Hermann’s. They stayed like that for a moment, just breathing softly and steadily until Hermann put his hand on Newton’s shoulder and got up slowly, pushing hard on his cane and on Newton, not looking at him. Then he took his hand and lead him over to the chalkboard. Newton perplexed look didn’t last. The cane dropped to the floor as Hermann took hold of his shoulders with considerable force, almost slamming him into the chalkboard with a soft thud.

“Hermann, your equa–.” Hermann annihilated that thought with his lips and proceeded to capture every millimeter of the biologist’s succulent mouth. Newton had never been so thoroughly kissed before in his entire life. Hermann was inhaling every breath of oxygen from his lungs and the lack of air was going straight to his head. He had to grip the ledge of the chalkboard behind him. Barely disengaging his mouth from Newton’s, Hermann said, “I’ve copied them down already.” How delicious those words tasted. Hermann’s tongue brushed his own and he took his entire bottom lip between his. Newton gasped almost inaudibly, mouth open wide as Hermann continued to tug. Newton reached into Hermann’s blazer, sliding his hands over the man’s sweater vest, trying to map the location of every rib. Hermann breathed roughly at being touched, as if he’d been aching for it for years. He gripped even harder. Then he moved his lips to Newton’s left jaw, the five-o’clock shadow grazing his lips. Newton groaned a little from disappointment at the loss of Hermann’s mouth on his, but then the latter placed his lips on his neck, sucking hard. Newton let out a short “hu” at the shock of the pressure in just the right place. Hermann was working his mouth over Newton’s skin as if he was still kissing his lips. 

“It’s always the quiet ones,” Newton quipped feebly, absolutely drunk with desire. Hermann huffed a breath of laughter. But he was not particularly in the mood for joking around and made his intentions very clear. He wasn’t by any means completely flaccid just yet and made sure Newton could feel it by grinding into the man’s right hip. This produced a beautiful moan. Hermann was exceedingly pleased with himself. He wrapped his left arm around Newt’s upper back, for sure wiping the blackboard clean, unclenched his right hand and reached down to unfasten those ridiculous, black, tight, skinny jeans. Newton panted in a frantic whisper, “yes, yes...yes, oh, yes.” Newton could feel them being opened and a long, thin, boney, and very strong hand slip down into his trousers. He was aching, actually aching and then Hermann touched his very hard... Hermann had never heard such a groan before. He started to work him up and down, slowly at first, then twisted his hand around to let his thumb do the more delicate work of massaging the head. He felt Newton’s need even before he said “please.” Hermann didn’t like to make him beg but it certainly was nice to know he was needed. The desperation in his voice spurred Hermann on to hold him a little tighter, all the while kissing his neck. The kisses became more sloppy as Hermann concentrated all his efforts on bringing him off and he increased his speed with little mercy. Newton was about ready to collapse, panting as if his life depended on it. 

“Hermann...” he breathed, injecting as much passion as he could into the name of his best friend, “God...yes.” He let his head fall back against the blackboard, his black hair brushing away Hermann’s beautiful scrawl, no doubt making calcium sulfate powder fall down the back of his shirt. The thought crossed his mind that Hermann was giving it to him this way because he probably has a strong gag reflex. But this was fine. Absolutely, perfectly, wonderfully, oh God, just fine. 

“Please, Hermann, I can’t take it,” Newton said, on the verge of sobbing. 

“It’s alright, Newton,” Hermann mumbled into Newt’s neck, the joint experience overtaking the latter. And with that, Newton came with a pitch forward, head on Hermann’s sweater, on his boney chest, with a muffled prolonged groan. They both held on tight, as Hermann had nothing to steady himself but Newton (whose legs were practically jelly at this point), and they swayed on the spot. But soon they were still again. 

“Jesus, man. That was,” Newt shook his head liked he’d been hit by something. “Sorry about your slacks.”

“It will wash off,” Hermann said, having trouble focusing himself. 

“You know what we haven’t done yet?”

“Darling, I don’t think I have the energy for more hankypanky just now.”

“Hankypanky oh my God,” Newt said under his breath with a mixture of adoration and frustration. “No, I mean, we need to recharge. Major....for like, weeks on end, in a horizontal position.”

“Ah yes.”

“Wanna join me?”

“By all means.” Their lips met again, with a gentle touch. Newt took out Hermann’s hankie and cleaned up the taller man’s trousers. Hermann looked at the man fondly again, thinking about how everything had changed. They walked out of the lab and made the way toward one of their bedrooms, their steps echoing on the floor and the distant noises of happiness reverberating throughout Shatterdome. Newt put his arm around Hermann’s waist and Hermann put his arm around Newt’s shoulder. 

“We’re still gonna bicker sometimes, right?”

**Author's Note:**

> Also on FF.net.


End file.
